


stolen glances, missed chances

by ncityinthehouse



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends With Benefits, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun / Lee Donghyuck | Haechan, Phone Sex, Sexting, Strangers to Lovers, seemingly one-sided pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:41:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28158468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ncityinthehouse/pseuds/ncityinthehouse
Summary: Mark doesn’t know how it started, this thing he has with Johnny. He just knows that despite any better judgement, he doesn’t ever want it to end.Or, the johnmark friends-with-benefits fic where Mark’s never been much interested in dating until a certain blonde-haired senior catches his eye and he starts to think that maybe relationshipsaren’tas pointless as they seem.
Relationships: Mark Lee/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 47
Kudos: 281





	stolen glances, missed chances

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this fic because i simply couldn’t get the idea of college fwb johnny & mark who don’t mean to fall in love but do anyway out of my HEAD !! (or the idea or johnny making mark blush… or johnny making him beg… or mark wearing his clothes… *clears throat* u get the point...)
> 
> If you like listening to music while you read I made this [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/121iYZZ1EINOS3u6So5bAv?si=8-4kC_0KRLWLtxN62mCj-A) for this fic :)
> 
> a special shoutout to pam for being the best beta (per usual ily) and jenna for rooting for me the whole way to finish this <33
> 
> happy reading! ✨

Mark decides within ten minutes of arriving at the party that he already wants to leave, but his body’s itching for some kind of release and _fuck_ if he’s going to spend the last Friday before midterms cooped up in his bedroom, watching Netflix at top volume, and pretending like he can't hear his roommate getting railed by his boyfriend in the next room.

So he takes a shot.

And another.

And another.

And somewhere between drink four and dancing to some god-awful remix of a Mac Miller song that Mark thinks he's heard before and now never wants to hear again, he’s finally feeling that perfect sort of drunk where it sounds like a really good idea to go flirt with that blonde guy standing over by the bar.

The next few minutes pass in a hazy blur.

Mark finds out that the guy’s name is Johnny, and he’s in the grade above Mark, and he smells like fire and lemons, and his mouth tastes slightly of rum when Mark slides his tongue past his lips and his apartment is only ten minutes away if Mark maybe wants to get out of here... 

And Mark _really_ wants to get out of here. 

He’s barely sent Donghyuck a text to say he’s leaving the party with someone and will probably be home late before he's walking out of the door, the only thing on his mind just _Johnny, Johnny, Johnny —_ Johnny’s mouth, pressing a kiss to the exposed skin on Mark's shoulder as they wait for their Uber, the promise of more on the tip of his tongue as he drags his mouth lazily across Mark’s flushed skin. Johnny’s hand, creeping up his leg in the back of the car, drawing lazy circles on top of his jeans and dipping his fingers into the rips to trace patterns on the warm skin of Mark’s thighs. Johnny's voice, deep and a little rough, driving Mark insane when he whispers in his ear all the things he wants to do to him the second they’re through the door of Johnny’s apartment. 

It doesn’t take long before Mark is naked and splayed out on Johnny’s bed, three fingers buried deep in his ass, small whimpers flying from his mouth as Johnny scissors him open.

Mark doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol still buzzing through his veins or the overwhelming look in Johnny’s eyes as he takes in Mark’s body writhing under his touch, but his brain is buzzing with impatience and his hands are restless, clenching into the sheets by his head as he pushes back onto Johnny's hand. 

Johnny shifts the angle of his fingers, hitting Mark's prostate dead on, over and over until Mark can't hear anything other than the noises flying from the back of his throat and the hammered beat of his heart. Mark's back arches off of the bed when Johnny presses his fingers down harder, cursing as he reaches down to grab desperately at Johnny’s wrist, stilling his hand before he comes from Johnny’s fingers alone. 

_“Please_ ,” Mark gasps, eyes blurring around the edges as Johnny pulls his fingers out. “Wanna come on your cock.” 

Johnny swears, the wrecked sound spilling over his lips, either from Mark’s words or the obscene way his asshole clenches at the loss of Johnny’s fingers. Johnny reaches into a drawer for a condom and more lube and Mark whines at the loss of his hands on his body, pulling him down by the thin silver chain around his neck into a slow kiss after he rolls the condom on, all tongue and no finesse.

“Think you can come untouched?” Johnny asks, the tip of his dick just barely catching on Mark’s rim as he looks down at him with raised eyebrows and runs the head of his cock over Mark's ass.

Mark’s never been this turned on in his life _,_ and Johnny hasn’t even started fucking him yet. 

_Christ_.

“Think you can make me?” Mark counters, biting back a grin when Johnny’s eyes darken, hands gripping Mark’s thighs hard enough to bruise. 

Johnny laughs, the sound delightfully wicked as he moves to press his hands on either side of Mark’s head, caging him between his arms. His breathing ghosts over Mark's skin, goosebumps rising on the sweaty skin of his arms when Johnny leans forward, pressing a kiss on the corner of Mark's mouth.

“Oh, baby,” Johnny starts, lips dragging against Mark’s cheek before his voice drops, whispering into the shell of his ear as a delicious chill runs across Mark’s skin, “I’m going to _ruin you._ ”

And then Johnny's pushing in with a hard snap of his hips and a low grunt. Mark’s jaw falls open and a pitchy moan escapes his lips, his eyes screwing tight as he clenches his fingers into the skin of his thighs, chest shuddering as he tries to even out his breathing. Mark's thighs start to shake where he’s holding them up, the stretch so intense that Mark feels like he’s going to split in half, and that's just from the first few inches. 

“You are so fucking — _tight_ ,” Johnny growls, sentence punctuated by Johnny pulling out a little just to slam back in, finally bottoming out as Mark gasps desperately into his mouth, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes at how full he feels. Johnny’s bigger than what Mark’s used to, and he’d be lying if he said the stretch didn’t burn, his body trying desperately to adjust to Johnny’s width as fire licks up his spine and spreads across his hips, pooling in his core and lighting him up from his veins. 

Mark’s vision blurs, ears filling with cotton as Johnny starts to move, the drag of his dick causing Mark to feel drunker than any of the cheap vodka he had been drinking at the party. 

His nails rake down Johnny’s back, eyes rolling back into his head when Johnny pushes Mark's knees closer to his chest, further than Mark even thought possible with his limited flexibility. But the position shifts the angle so every snap of Johnny's hips rams his cock directly into Mark's prostate, lighting every nerve in his body in white hot flame, and _God,_ that's good.

 _"Shit,_ Mark,” Johnny mutters, his voice hoarse. “Look at you." One of his hands comes up to roughly grab at Mark’s hair, tugging it so Mark's head falls further back on the pillow, his throat raised towards the ceiling. Johnny presses a kiss to the exposed skin like he can't help himself before leaning back and pressing his fingers there, the lightest of pressures at the base of his neck. "You’re so fucking pretty like this. _”_

Mark makes an unintelligible noise, eyes screwing shut as the praise washes over him, dick leaking pre-cum all over his stomach as Johnny pounds into him. Mark hurtles closer and closer to the edge every time the tip of Johnny’s dick slams relentlessly against Mark’s prostate, a swarm of butterflies beating against his ribs and adrenaline coursing through his veins as Mark feels his orgasm near. 

“Fuck, ‘m close,” Mark mutters, hands dropping from his legs to twine into blonde hair, pulling Johnny down into a sloppy kiss as he feels his vision start to go white. 

“Me too. Come for me, Mark,” Johnny groans, breathing heavy into Mark’s mouth as he presses their foreheads together. His nose skims off of Mark's and digs into his cheek, his lips glancing over the mole on Mark's cheek as a low curse tumbles from under his breath.

And that’s all it takes before Mark’s coming, painting his chest in stripes of white as a broken moan rips from his throat, Johnny’s name falling off the tip of his tongue.

Mark relishes in the feeling of Johnny fucking him through it until the pleasure starts to fade and the overstimulation of Johnny’s dick buried deep in his ass becomes too much. Johnny just barely glances his prostate and Mark gasps, clenching down hard. Johnny's fingers tighten on Mark's skin, the increased pressure causing Johnny to finish, hips stuttering and arms giving out as he falls lifeless on top of Mark’s chest. When Johnny finally pulls out Mark wince, eyes fluttering shut as Johnny tosses the tied off condom into the trash before settling back down onto Mark’s heaving chest. 

Mark's mind finally calms down a few minutes later, body buzzing with the honeyed bliss of the afterglow. He pushes Johnny’s heavy body off of him with a grunt and moves to get up, laughing when Johnny pouts up at him from the other pillow. 

Mark leans down to press a slow, placating kiss to his lips. When Johnny’s hand shifts from Mark’s hip to his ass, pulling him closer and sweeping his tongue across Mark’s bottom lip, Mark grins against Johnny's mouth.

Mark pulls back, thumb lightly tracing Johnny’s full lower lip. 

“I need to get dressed,” Mark says softly. He really just wants to lay in the warmth of Johnny’s arms for a few more minutes but knows if he lets himself linger in his bed for any longer then he’s going to actually fall asleep, and that’s the last thing he wants. He’s not one to stick around after hookups, having dealt with too many awkward morning-afters and misinterpreted signals.

“Fine. I did say I’d make you come untouched, though. Didn’t I, smartass,” Johnny grins, rolling off the bed and padding towards the door of his room, his footsteps soft against the hardwood.

“Shut up,” Mark calls after him, biting at his lower lip when he realizes he's grinning like a fool.

Johnny returns a few moments later with a wet washcloth and an easy grin; Mark hums and reaches a hand out for it, the cum and lube that's starting to dry on his stomach becoming increasingly more uncomfortable with each passing second. But Johnny just presses his knee into the mattress and leans forward, gently wiping over the mess on Mark’s chest and stomach, cleaning him up with practiced ease.

Mark stands on wobbly feet as soon as Johnny’s finished, eyes searching for where his clothes had landed in the heat of the moment, ignoring the way his heart is pounding from Johnny's gentle, fleeting touches.

Johnny grins when he lays back down, rolling onto his stomach to watch Mark get dressed, a glint in his eyes as he stares unabashedly at Mark’s naked, marked-up body. 

"Dude. Fuck you," Mark groans, turning away. "Don't just _stare."_

Mark's not even shy, but Johnny's making him feel shy. He doesn't have to turn around to know that Johnny's eyes are glued to his ass. Mark’s ears burn.

“Fuck _me?_ ” Johnny echoes, the smirk in his voice only growing, “Oh, I’m not sure you could handle me, Mark.” 

Mark makes an indignant squawk as he stumbles, picking up his underwear from the foot of Johnny’s bed and pulling them on hastily. He turns to shoot Johnny a warning look, but can only see the way Johnny's studying him with unfiltered want.

Johnny’s eyes linger on the sweaty planes of Mark’s stomach before he continues, “I’d let you fuck my throat though. Mm, fuck. I’d be so good for you, on my knees and begging for it. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

 _Yes,_ Mark thinks with a groan, _he would like that_. He would like that very fucking much. But now Mark’s picturing Johnny on his knees for him, lips wrapped around his shaft, soft and pink and full and dripping with saliva and cum _._ And my fucking god _,_ Mark thinks Johnny’s trying to kill him. 

“Dude _,_ do not make me get fucking hard again right before I leave,” Mark groans.

A long moment passes and Mark stills, ready for Johnny to get up and pull him back into bed, or say something else that has him aching and tenting his pants. But then Johnny sighs, deflating.

“Fine," he concedes. "But stop calling me dude or we’re never hooking up again, 'kay?”

Mark rolls his eyes with a grin because, _god,_ he likes the idea of that — seeing Johnny again, fucking him again. His heart thunders at the thought, strumming an unfamiliar tune in his chest as he pulls on the rest of his clothes quickly. When he's finally wearing all of the clothes he came in he turns and walks back over to the bed to press a final, lingering kiss on Johnny’s lips. His fingers press into the hollows Johnny’s cheeks as he teases the edge of his lips with his tongue before pulling away reluctantly. Mark giggles when Johnny immediately pulls him back down for another, tongue grazing the roof of Mark’s mouth in a possessive swipe before he lets go with a final soft peck to his lips.

Mark leaves Johnny’s apartment with a new number saved in his phone and the promise to do this again, _soon._

And for the first time, Mark actually means it.

✶

When Mark gets home later that night, a stupidly blissed out smile still plastered on his face, he finds his roommate laid out on the living room sofa — brows rising as he watches Mark stumble in through the front door. 

Donghyuck pauses with his spoon halfway to his mouth, lips quirked up at the sides as his eyes rake slowly down Mark’s body, lingering on his ruined neck before flicking back up to his eyes.

"Hi, Duckie," Mark says softly, surprised to see Donghyuck awake at such an ungodly hour. The last time Mark checked his phone it was at least three in the morning, and that was _before_ he left Johnny's. "What are you doing up?" Mark asks, walking over to plop onto the sofa next to him and relax into the comfortable warmth of Donghyuck's side.

Donghyuck sets the spoon back in his bowl of ice cream and lays it on the table, shifting so they're laying more comfortably with Mark's head resting in the crook of Donghyuck's neck and Donghyuck’s legs strewn over his lap.

"Oh, you know," Donghyuck hums, a hand gesturing vaguely in the air before threading into the back of Mark's hair and scratching lightly at his scalp, "just making sure my dear roommate didn't get murdered by whatever stranger he went home from that party with."

Mark laughs, remembering the sloppy text he had sent before getting in the Uber with Johnny. All he remembers is sending a lot of emojis and some equally incoherent version of the words “blonde guy i'm leaving with... he’s hot.”

"My hero," Mark says, voice thick with sarcasm as he grins into Donghyuck’s sleeve.

"I know, I know." Donghyuck sighs dramatically, "So, that, _and_ Jae left the apartment literally like five minutes ago. You just missed him."

Mark smiles at the mention of Donghyuck's boyfriend, having figured that was the only reason that Donghyuck would be wearing a different outfit than he had been wearing when Mark left and was awake at nearly four in the morning. 

"He didn’t stay tonight?" Mark asks, humming contentedly when Donghyuck’s hand drifts to scratch down the length of Mark’s back. 

"Roommate emergency meeting or something," Donghyuck sighs, "don't even bother."

Mark tries to come up with their real names but can only hear Donghyuck affectionately calling the roommates "thing one and thing two." Mark does know, however, that if Donghyuck was actually upset, he wouldn’t be sitting on their sofa humming and eating ice cream, so he drops it. 

"'S okay," Mark yawns, shifting so his arm is less crushed under Donghyuck's back. "I'm way more fun anyway."

"Right," Donghyuck laughs, hand moving up to play with the cartilage of Mark's ear. "And how was your night, Markie? I'm assuming it went well from that disgusting little fucked-out smile you’ve got on your face."

Mark blushes, ducking his head further into Donghyuck's body, groaning when Donghyuck laughs at his blatant embarrassment.

"Oh my god, look at you," Donghyuck continues, pulling Mark's ear with a playful tug. "Are you fucking _blushing?_ My, my. Never thought I’d see the day. Mark Lee, blushing at the mention of sex? What sort of magical unicorn dick did this guy have?”

"Shut the fuck up," Mark groans, voice muffled by Donghyuck's sweatshirt. He sighs, turning his cheek to press it fully against Donghyuck's chest, his heartbeat thrumming steady in Mark’s ear. "I don't even know, Duck. He was just— fuck _,_ wait, it was like… he was funny and the sex was good, like _really_ good. Magical unicorn dick kinda good.” Donghyuck laughs, the sound under Mark’s cheek. Mark grins, continuing, “Not to mention he was down for the whole no strings thing and like, he gave me his number and everything. It seemed—”

"Too good to be true?"

"Yeah," Mark says quietly, fingers playing with the hem of Donghyuck's sweatshirt as a tentative smile finds his lips, body still buzzing with excitement — buzzing with _Johnny._ It really did seem too good to be true. 

"Think you'll see him again?" Donghyuck asks, hand stilling as he meets Mark’s eyes, genuine curiosity in his gaze.

"Yeah." Mark smiles, "Yeah, I think I will." 

✶

When Johnny finally texts Mark, it’s when he’s least expecting it. 

Because let's be honest. Mark is _used_ to booty calls. He’s all too familiar with the 3 am “u up?” texts from unsaved numbers and the missed Friday night facetimes from the “guy from the bar.”

What he doesn’t expect is this — Johnny’s name popping up in his notifications at 2 pm on a Saturday while he’s lounging in the living room with Donghyuck watching New Girl, elbow deep in a bucket of fried chicken. 

Mark’s eyebrows raise comically as he takes in the contact, wiping grease off his hands as he picks up his phone. He leans back into the sofa, turning his shoulders so Donghyuck can’t see the screen, lest Johnny got day-drunk and really _was_ sexting Mark during the middle of a Saturday afternoon. 

**Johnny:**

Not to be desperate but...

I don’t suppose you’re free tomorrow night?

This is Johnny btw

Hi ...

Mark laughs before he can stop himself, ignoring the way Donghyuck cuts his eyes at him for making noise when Schmidt was talking. Mark sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, fingers hovering over the screen as he thinks about how to respond. 

**Me:**

hi to you too :)

hmm i think i can be free tomorrow night

what for?

**Johnny:**

I have the apartment to myself

And could make us some dinner

And drinks 

And...

**Me:**

im listening

and what? 👀

**Johnny:**

And I can’t stop thinking about fucking you again

Mark feels his heart thunder in his chest, skin flushing with pleasant surprise at Johnny’s boldness. Seeing Johnny again plus the promise of free food and alcohol and really fucking good sex? 

**Me:**

send me the address

i’ll be there at 8 :)

✶

When Mark shows up at Johnny’s the next day at 8 pm on the dot, there’s no awkward small-talk or weird pauses, just Johnny bending Mark over the kitchen table, and the sofa, and his bed, and really anywhere else he wants him. 

They forget about the dinner and drinks, but Mark comes at least three times and leaves Johnny’s apartment feeling happier than he has all semester, and thoroughly, _thoroughly_ fucked. 

So he texts Johnny a few nights later, and they do it again. 

And again. 

And _again._

Until messages from Johnny start with genuine laughter and end with Mark in Johnny’s bed, and Johnny’s name becomes the first one Mark looks for when he’s feeling particularly needy, and Mark starts going out less and less because why would he bother with drinking cheap liquor and searching for someone random to go home with when he could just text Johnny and get fucked exactly the way he wants _and_ share a bottle of good wine?

Everything is just easy with Johnny. 

Johnny doesn’t get his feelings hurt when Mark can’t come over, and he doesn’t care if Mark’s late because Johnny’s nothing if not patient, and Johnny doesn’t even care if Mark goes home with someone else from a party. Or if he does care, he doesn’t let it show. The list goes on. He makes Mark laugh til he’s got tears streaming down his face, he’s got the most insane body Mark’s ever seen, _and_ he lets Mark do just about anything he wants to him. 

Well — He hasn’t let Mark fuck him _yet_ , but Mark feels like if he asked nice enough, Johnny would. 

So it becomes a thing. 

Mark gets a bad grade on his next paper in Shakespearean Lit and he finds himself texting Johnny, plans to meet up and distract himself made within five minutes. They see each other out at a club and Johnny leaves the girl he’s dancing with and fucks Mark in the bathroom like he missed him. Johnny finds out he got the internship he applied for in the summer and Mark sucks his dick in the library to say congratulations. 

It’s fun, and it’s easy, and it’s everything Mark never knew he needed.

✶

“Oh my God… Oh my _God.”_

Mark’s head snaps back into the headboard when Johnny skims his teeth across his shaft, the scrape so light that Mark would think it was accidental if Johnny wasn’t looking up at him from under his lashes with that fucking _look_ in his eyes. 

“Sorry,” Johnny smirks, not sounding sorry at all. His lips wrap back around Mark, tongue swirling around the tip — hot and wet and excruciatingly slow. Mark’s back arches off the bed, and then Johnny’s tongue is sliding across his slit and his brain is shorting, thoughts fading to static and fizzling out.

 _“_ Fuck _,_ Johnny, _”_ Mark hisses, clutching Johnny’s hair in his fist, the blonde strands slick with sweat and falling over his forehead in messy waves. Mark's hips jerk when Johnny runs his tongue back along the head, another string of curses falling from Mark's lips. He pulls Johnny's head back with a desperate tug of his fingers, panting. “Stop. You know I’m, I’m—”

“Sensitive?” Johnny finishes, grinning when Mark blushes crimson and averts his eyes. Johnny's hand is still circled around Mark's length, the pressure just heavy enough to drive Mark crazy. "I know, baby," Johnny says with a singular, slow tug of his hand.

Baby. _Baby?_ Fuck, that's a new development. Mark flushes scarlet, a little gasp leaving his lips at the word, at his tone, at the way fire licks up his spine and he wants to beg Johnny to say it again.

“Stop teasing,” Mark whines, hands leaving Johnny's hair to palm at his shoulders, fingers tumbling down the planes of his back, tracing his jaw, splaying across his cheek. Mark wants to drown in the feeling of Johnny's honeyed skin hot underneath his touch, red from exertion and desire.

"But you look so pretty like this," Johnny responds, words barely registering in Mark's mind when Johnny starts to move his hand again, pressure building, and building and building, tight and coiling in Mark's core. "All flushed and shy and needy, just for me," Johnny says, nipping a kiss into the delicate skin at Mark's hip.

"Just for you," Mark repeats mindlessly, words slurring together as he bucks into Johnny's fist.

Johnny curses under his breath, taking Mark back into the velvety heat of his mouth, tongue swirling around the sensitive head. Mark's eyes screw shut as pleasure washes over his body, fingers tangling in the sheets by his hips as he tries desperately not to fuck Johnny's throat. It's so good. God, it's better than good, but Mark needs more... he needs Johnny.

"Need you," he breathes, fingers splaying across Johnny's chest, his heartbeat thundering under Mark’s palm.

Johnny doesn't stop to respond, instead continuing the slow torment of his mouth. His tongue traces a path up a vein on the underside of Mark's shaft, deliberately slow, and his pupils are blown wide as he stares up at Mark. Mark squirms under the touch and his gaze, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes when Johnny pulls his mouth back and blows a puff of cool air onto Mark's dick, chills running up and down his sweat-slicked skin.

Mark makes a noise somewhere between a grunt and a whimper, entirely overwhelmed by the way Johnny's working him up. And, fuck, if Mark feels this drawn out just from Johnny's mouth alone, he doesn't want to know what it would be like if Johnny was teasing his prostate, edging him with his cock and his lips and his words all at once.

Mark groans when Johnny goes back to slow, wet tugs of his hand. He knows that Johnny's just playing with him — seeing how worked up Mark can get, seeing how far he can take things. And, fuck, it's working. Mark's leaking all over his stomach and over Johnny's fist, fingers slick with lube and Mark's pre-cum.

"Just fuck me already," Mark groans, pushing into Johnny's fist with a hard thrust.

Mark makes a noise of frustration when Johnny’s hand stills at the base of his cock. 

_“J-Johnny?”_ he stutters, hips bucking at the lack of friction, his chest rising and plummeting back down as he tries desperately to catch his breath. Johnny presses his free hand into the base of Mark's stomach, pushing him down into the bed with calloused fingertips and pinning him to the mattress.

“That's not how you ask nicely, is it, baby?" Johnny says, voice low and rough and mocking in a way Mark’s not familiar with. His hand wraps tighter around Mark, still unmoving. "You want it so bad, Mark? Be a good boy and fucking beg for it."

Shit. _Shit._

This is a side of him that Mark has never seen before — rough and dangerous and _sinfully_ hot.

“Please?” Mark all but whispers, a tear tracking down his right cheek before he can stop it. Johnny's eyes are nearly black, something dangerous flashing in his gaze before he's letting go of Mark completely, leaning back and staring down at him, eyes gliding down his body in a lazy sweep.

Mark whines at the loss of Johnny's touch, his own hand reaching for his cock. Shit, he's so close he could probably come untouched. Mark's barely wrapped his fingers around the base of his shaft before Johnny's pinning his wrists above his head with one hand, the other reaching down and grabbing his chin, forcing him to meet his eyes.

“I said _beg,"_ Johnny purrs. Mark's skin burns at the command, his mouth running dry as he drags his tongue across his lower lip.

And then the words are tumbling out of Mark's mouth, a jumble of desperate, shameful, pleading syllables, tumbling over each other as he hurtles them into the space between them. “Please. Please, please, please. Johnny... _fuck._ Please. I need you _now_ , Johnny. Fuck me. I'll be good, I-I promise, I'll be so good. Need your cock. Need- _Now,_ plea—”

And Mark knows he's going to want to die of embarrassment when the afterglow fades and he remembers begging Johnny to fuck him while he's red in the face and tears are tracking down his cheeks, but it's worth it; fuck, it's _worth it,_ because Johnny's mouth is on him and he's swallowing the rest of Mark's words and he's licking past Mark's teeth in a way that makes him want to sob with relief, and then with a shove and a desperate moan that Mark wallows in, Johnny's inside of him. 

✶

When Mark hears keys rattling in the door, his first thought is _holy shit,_ someone is breaking into his apartment.

Then he remembers that Donghyuck told him that his afternoon lab got cancelled this morning when they were making breakfast, and Mark had just forgotten about that little detail completely when he had invited Johnny over to watch a movie and have lazy mid-afternoon sex.

 _Then_ he realizes that he's currently straddling Johnny on the living room sofa, wearing nothing but the triple X t-shirt he tore off of Johnny himself about thirty minutes ago. Then, an even worse thought crosses his mind — if Johnny doesn't move _now,_ Donghyuck's going to have to meet him for the first time. And while Mark wasn't naive enough to think that Johnny and Hyuck were never going to run into each other, he's really not mentally prepared for his best friend to meet the boy he's been fucking all month while two out of the three of them are half-naked.

Mark curses under his breath, tumbling from Johnny's lap and dragging him to the closest door he can find. 

"Shit. In, now."

Then he's shoving Johnny into the coat closet and slamming the door on his face, turning and leaning against it right as the door swings open. Mark forces his lips into a grin as he runs his fingers through his hair, trying his hardest to flatten the messy black strands in a _I-definitely-did-not-just-get-fucked_ kind of way.

Donghyuck stops dead in his tracks when he sees Mark standing suspiciously in the corner of the room, looking at him with raised brows. Donghyuck's gaze flicks to the door Mark's leaning on before returning to his face.

"Um. What the fuck are you doing?" Donghyuck asks slowly, putting his keys down and taking off his coat, eyes never leaving Mark’s.

"Nothing," Mark responds immediately. Too fast, really. He winces, trying to backpedal. "Just, you know. Chilling... watching tv."

"Mhm, sure. That's not your shirt," Donghyuck murmurs under his breath, then louder, hand pointing towards the black band-tee hanging off of Mark's frame, his collarbones peeking out from the stretched collar. "That's not your shirt, Markie. Whose shirt is that?"

"No, no," Mark tries, a nervous giggle flying from his throat as he pulls at a sleeve, suddenly all too aware of how this shirt is the _only_ thing he's wearing. "Uh... this is my shirt. Yep. Mine, definitely."

"No it's not," Donghyuck insists, an unimpressed look on his face.

"Yes, it is—”

"Who's in the closet, Mark?"

Mark's stomach drops and his mouth starts to dry out, his hands floundering by his sides.

"Uh, closet? What closet? I mean — nobody," Mark says, toes curling in on the floor. Johnny's probably laughing at him right now and the mere thought of that has Mark's ears turning pink.

"So if I wanted to say, put my coat up... I could definitely do that since _no one_ is in the closet. Right, Mark?" Donghyuck asks, grinning when he takes a few steps forward and Mark starts to panic.

"NO—” Mark yells, eyes bugging out of his head as he throws his hands out to stop him.

"No?" Donghyuck repeats, eyes shining with amusement. Of course he’s enjoying this. 

"There's uh, I have uh," Mark starts, wracking his brain for anything not Johnny-shaped he could possibly be hiding in the coat closet, of all places. He goes for the first thing he thinks of. "A dead body," Mark says with determination, before his eyes go even wider. _A dead body? Really, Mark? What the literal fuck._ "I mean a dead animal, I mean fuck—I have— I mean. Shit. You just _can't look in there,_ okay?"

Donghyuck just stares at him, eyes wide and unblinking. Then he sighs.

"You know, I was all excited to come home and take a nap but now that you've ruined the vibes by being a complete _psychopath_ , I'm just going to go to Jae's instead," Donghyuck says, picking his keys back up out of the bowl. He turns to Mark and pins him with a look before pointing at the closet door. "I'm coming back for dinner though, so, your friend in the closet better be gone by then, 'kay?"

"There's nobody in the closet," Mark insists with a whine, palms starting to sweat.

"Yeah, and I'm straight," Donghyuck deadpans, rolling his eyes. "You're a fucking _terrible_ liar, Mark. You really need to work on that."

Johnny lets out a small laugh from behind the closet door and Mark flushes, kicking the door with his heel. He’s going to kill him. 

"Yeah, you hear that, 'nobody'?" Donghyuck calls, grinning when Mark whines and goes to push him out of the front door. "Gone in the next hour. My closet better be fucking empty when I come back. Got it? Empty."

Mark's going to fucking kill Johnny if he answers.

But, of course he does.

"Aye, aye, captain." 

✶

“Just... a _dead body._ Really, Mark?” Johnny mumbles, breaking apart from their kiss to laugh into the crook of Mark’s neck. "That was the best you could come up with?"

"Fuck off," Mark whines, pushing Johnny's shoulders off of him. "Like you would've done so much better."

"Dude, a monkey could've done better. It wasn't even just that. I was trying so hard not to lose my shit when you followed that with a "dead animal," like that made it any better."

Mark laughs, punching Johnny's shoulder as his cheeks turn pink.

"You're mean."

"No, seriously," Johnny grins, hands wrapping around Mark's hips to pull him closer. "Did you think pretending like you had a fucking dead squirrel or something in there was gonna make the situation less fucking weird?"

“I’m gonna kill you,” Mark murmurs, cheeks pink.

“Okay,” Johnny whispers, pressing forward to capture Mark’s mouth in a soft kiss, hand sliding up to cup Mark’s jaw in a soft caress. “Find a better spot for my body than the coat closet though.”

Mark pushes his chest with a laugh, whispering _Fuck you_ onto his lips before kissing him back. 

✶

“Ya, Mark Lee,” Donghyuck calls, “Come here.”

Mark groans, hand already on the front door. Johnny’s texts of “hurry up, i need you” and, even worse, “been waiting to fuck you all day, don’t make me wait.” sit un-responded to in his pocket, _taunting_ him. 

But Mark goes to Donghyuck’s room anyway, pulling the strings of his sweatshirt taut before Donghyuck asks why his neck looks like it’s been mauled. Mark really needs to start telling Johnny to lay off with the marks above the collar. 

“What’s up?” Mark asks when he reaches Donghyuck’s door, trying not to let any frustration creep into his voice. 

The corner of Donghyuck’s mouth twitches up and Mark realizes the frustration definitely crept into his voice anyway. Thankfully, Donghyuck doesn’t comment on it. 

“Can you text your mom and see if she has the recipe for that pasta dish she made when I visited y'all? The like spicy one.” Donghyuck asks after a second, surprising Mark with how random an ask that is. Donghyuck’s always been more of an everything-but-the-kitchen-sink kind of cook, not one for recipes and meticulous dishes. 

“For what?” 

“God, you’re not even kidding, are you?” Donghyuck asks. 

At Mark’s lack of response, Donghyuck rolls his eyes. 

“For the dinner party,” he explains slowly, waiting for any sign of recognition to light up in Mark’s eyes. 

It never comes. 

Donghyuck sighs. “The dinner party, Mark. C’mon dude. Jaehyun and his roommates are coming over for dinner on Friday. We _talked_ about this, remember?” 

No, Mark does not remember.

“Oh, right,” Mark says instead, flinching when his phone buzzes in his pocket. It’s probably Johnny, texting to ask where the fuck Mark is. Johnny, _needy_. Johnny, wanting him. Fuck, Mark really needs to get out of here. 

“So, will you?”

“Will I what?” Mark asks, zoning back in to see Donghyuck staring up at him with an amused grin. 

“Ask your mom about the recipe,” Donghyuck repeats. “You got it this time? Or, are you going to forget again? I could write it on your forehead if that helps, or I could—” He trails off, laughing when Mark shoves his shoulder. 

“I’m distracted,” Mark whines. _True._

“You’ve been distracted a lot lately, Markie,” Donghyuck comments, a knowing glint in his eye. _Also true._

Mark makes a noncommittal noise, trying desperately not to reach for his phone as it buzzes again in his pocket. His fingers twitch by his sides. 

“Is someone expecting you?” Donghyuck asks when Mark’s phone buzzes again. He sounds amused.

“Uh, kinda,” Mark responds, cursing himself for not putting his phone on do not disturb before he came in here. He should’ve known that one, Johnny really wasn't the patient type, and two, Donghyuck was curious to a fault and never gives Mark any privacy. 

“And where are y’all going?” Donghyuck asks.

They both know damn well where Mark is going. Mark’s just not willing to admit he’s going to a booty-call at 8 pm on a Wednesday, and Donghyuck’s enjoying Mark’s embarrassment too much to confront him point-blank. 

“Uh, to study,” Mark tries, already shifting his weight on his feet. God, Mark’s a terrible liar. 

His phone buzzes again.

“You’re going to go study?” Donghyuck repeats. 

“Yes,” Mark groans, patience wearing thin. 

His phone buzzes again. If Johnny tells him he changed his mind because Mark took too long he’s going to throw Donghyuck out of the window. 

“Wearing makeup?” Donghyuck asks, stupid smug grin written across face as he watches Mark blush.

“Yes, wearing makeup. Are we done now? Can I go?” He asks, a whine creeping into his voice. 

“Dismissed,” Donghyuck replies, laughing when Mark turns and runs to the door. 

And right when Mark thinks he’s in the clear, hand on the doorknob and sex on the horizon, Donghyuck calls after him. 

“Tell your _study buddy_ I say hi! And don’t forget to wear condoms! Be safe, Markie!”

✶

The doorbell rings and Mark's head whips towards the noise, reluctantly rising from where he's been sitting on the kitchen floor and enjoying the heat rising out of the oven. Mark glances down at his watch, eyebrows pinching in as he tries to figure out what sort of person shows up an hour early to a dinner party. 

Jaehyun, apparently.

"Hyuckie, it's cold. Let us in," A voice whines from the other side of the door. Mark just barely recognizes the deep tone, but from the way Donghyuck's eyes blow wide at the voice and his knuckles go white where he's grasping the wooden spoon in his hand, Mark knows _exactly_ who just spoke. 

Mark smiles, both excited to finally put a face to Jaehyun’s _thing one and thing two_ , and amused as Donghyuck visibly blanches by his side. Donghyuck's been nervous all day about “hosting,” something about making a good impression on Jaehyun’s friends even though they’ve all met him about a million times already. Mark thinks it probably has to do with just how whipped his roommate is for his boyfriend. 

"I'm assuming that's loverboy and his minions?" Mark asks with a grin, nodding his head towards the door. Donghyuck glares at his choice of words, but nods his head anyway. "Good. I'm excited to tell them all sorts of embarrassing shit about you," Mark goads, nudging Donghyuck playfully with his elbow. He laughs when Donghyuck fumbles with the spoon, almost dropping it into the sauce he's meant to be stirring, a small blush rising on his cheeks as an annoyed whine peels from his lips.

 _"Shut up,"_ Donghyuck laughs, pushing Mark with his free hand out of the kitchen. "I'll literally kill you if you make me any more nervous than I already am," Donghyuck says, eyes flicking up to meet Mark's gaze. Mark has never seen him this shy, all blushy ears and fidgety limbs. 

“Okay, fine. Only a _few_ embarrassing stories, then,” Mark grins. 

"Fuck you. I think I'm actually going to throw up," Donghyuck says, eyes going wide as he goes back to stirring. "What if his friends hate me and Jae breaks up with me? Fuck. I wouldn't ever be able to show my face like ever again."

"Oh my god, you drama queen," Mark laughs, voice softening as he reaches over to ruffle Donghyuck’s hair. "It's going to be fine, Duck. It’s not like they haven’t seen you in more compromising positions than this." Mark wags his eyebrows, already jogging towards the door to let them into the apartment before Donghyuck can hit him with the spoon at the reminder of all of the things Jaehyun’s roommates have walked in on them _doing_. 

✶

Jaehyun's " _thing one"_ is almost certainly named Yuta, Mark realizes as he greets them at the door, the name popping back into his head right as he introduces himself to the red-head at Jaehyun’s side. 

Mark’s never actually met Yuta in person, but from the uncorked bottle of wine in his left hand and the bright yellow puffer coat he’s drowning in, Mark can imagine he’ll get along with him just fine. Mark points to the bottle, already laughing.

“Is that for us?”

“Oh this?” Yuta asks, turning it towards his face to squint at the red liquid sloshing around in the bottle, less than half of the wine left. He shrugs as a smile starts to pull at his lips, “Well, it _was.”_

“Wait. Oh my god. Wait,” Mark starts, an incredulous giggle bubbling up his throat as he takes in Yuta’s red rimmed eyes and lazy smile. “Are you like… drunk right now?” 

“Not as drunk as Jae is,” Yuta says, slinging his arm around Jaehyun’s shoulder with a toothy grin. 

Mark raises an amused brow at the two of them and Jaehyun laughs, a dimple popping into each cheek as the deep, rich sound echoes in the cold air. 

Jaehyun’s voice drops to a stage whisper that Donghyuck could definitely still hear if he was listening to their conversation. “Yeah, don’t tell Hyuck but we pregamed this a little bit. If he thought I was sitting through our little pseudo family dinner sober he was kidding himself.”

Mark laughs, a surprised noise escaping his lips at Jaehyun’s words. Donghyuck had been a bundle of nerves about impressing Jaehyun and his friends, and they showed up already tipsy. God. He sees what Donghyuck likes about Jaehyun, really. He's charming, sexy and definitely a little bit evil. They're perfect for each other.

He accepts the wine in Yuta’s hand with an easy smile, stepping aside to let them into the apartment, before realizing that there’s only the two of them standing at his front door. 

“Oh wait, dude. I thought Hyuck said you were bringing both of your roommates. We made like way too much food for just the four of us." Mark frowns, thinking about all of the food in the oven that they definitely won’t finish now. 

“Oh, no. Don’t worry, I did,” Jaehyun says, tossing his head back towards the parking lot with a grin, “ _someone_ had to drive our drunk asses, Markie.”

It’s only then that Mark notices a silhouette coming up the sidewalk, tall and blonde and wearing a flannel Mark feels like he’s seen before. 

And before Mark can figure it out, the figure steps out of the shadows and smiles up at the three of them, a look flashing in his eyes as he watches Mark’s face light up in surprise.

“Johnny?” Mark’s jaw goes slack and his eyes widen as he takes in none other than Johnny Suh standing on his front porch in a flannel and jeans. 

“Oh, you guys already know each other?” Jaehyun asks, sliding past Mark and into the apartment, leaving him in the doorway to stare at Johnny with that same dazed look on his face. 

“Uh—” Mark starts ineloquently, unsure of what to say. _We met at a party? We’ve been hooking up in secret for the past few weeks? I let him fuck me over the back of your living room sofa two nights ago and still can’t quite walk right?_

Luckily, Johnny sees him floundering and covers for the both of them, walking the last few steps up to Mark’s door and wiping his feet on the mat.

“Yeah. Markie’s a good guy,” Johnny says with a small smile. Mark feels like if Jaehyun wasn’t still looking, Johnny would’ve winked, and Mark doesn’t want to know what it means that he’s already picking up on Johnny’s mannerisms.

Jaehyun nods distractedly, as if “Markie’s a good guy” was explanation enough, already walking towards the kitchen to help Donghyuck, Yuta hot on his trail. 

“So, uh,” Mark starts awkwardly, unsure of where he and Johnny stand outside of hooking up. It’s not like him to be nervous around Johnny, but it’s also not like him to have people he’s casually fucking over to dinner, so. “I didn’t know you were roommates with Jaehyun,” Mark stammers, unable to think of anything else. 

“I didn’t know you were roommates with Donghyuck,” Johnny counters, stepping into Mark’s space. 

“You look really fucking good,” Mark notes, absentmindedly. His eyes drift from the soft flannel hanging off of Johnny’s broad shoulders to the jeans that fit him a little too well in the thighs, gaze lingering on the familiar silver chain around Johnny’s neck before returning back up to his face. It’s a more reserved look than Mark’s used to, but he can’t say Johnny doesn’t look good. Not that Johnny _ever_ doesn't look good.

“Thanks, baby,” Johnny grins, words just low enough that no one in the other room can hear the pet-name. Johnny leans forward, voice dropping to a near-whisper as he speaks into the inches between them, lips brushing Mark's ear. “You look better naked and begging for it, but I like your sweater, too. You look good in red.”

Mark coughs, his mind blanking as his cheeks heat, freezing in the doorway. His eyes snap up to Johnny’s face, and he glares at the shit-eating grin pulling at Johnny’s lips. 

Johnny even has the audacity to blow him a kiss, brushing past Mark and into the apartment, his hand lingering on Mark’s lower back a little too long to be casual but definitely not long enough for Mark to feel as weak in the knees as he does. 

Mark’s head spins at the simple touch, fingers clenching on the doorknob as he shuts the door, locking the five of them into the apartment for the foreseeable future. 

Donghyuck wasn’t the only one nervous, now. 

✶

Mark is going to _kill him._

The first few times it had been innocent enough — Johnny asking Mark to pass him something and brushing his hand when he grabbed it, or asking him questions about his major with a little, private smile that tugged at Mark’s heart, or grinning fondly just for Mark when he knew no one else was looking. 

But _this,_ Johnny’s sock-clad foot dragging slowly up the inside of Mark’s calf. This was far from innocent. 

“Markie, you okay over there?” Johnny asks, a concerned look in his eyes like he isn’t playing fucking footsie with Mark under the table. “You look a little… red.” 

Johnny even has the audacity to pout, like the idea of Mark not feeling well upsets him. To _pout._

“Just peachy,” Mark grits out with a forced smile, trying desperately to push Johnny’s foot away under the table without it looking like he’s having a psychotic break. He's not sure he gets away with it because Yuta raises his eyebrow, taking a slow sip from his wine glass.

Johnny’s lips twitch in amusement as he raises his foot another inch, pressing into the skin just above Mark’s knee. Mark feels his dick swell in interest and his skin flushes even deeper, hot on his cheeks and the back of his neck as he feels everyone’s eyes on him. 

“You do look red,” Donghyuck muses from beside him, frowning as he raises the back of his hand to Mark’s forehead. “Your forehead is kinda hot, too.”

“I’m fine,” Mark insists, taking a bite of his food and trying desperately not to flinch when Johnny’s toes press into his lower thigh, “probably just too much wine, or something.”

“Or something,” Johnny mimics, grinning at Mark from across the table like the little piece of shit he is.

Everyone laughs, the table falling back into easy chatter as Mark forces himself to smile and desperately push at Johnny’s foot, still creeping up Mark’s leg. 

Homicidal _._ Mark feels positively homicidal. 

“Markie, pass me the rolls, will ya?” Johnny asks innocently, foot stilling its ascent up Mark's thigh. 

Mark shoots Johnny a warning look as he hands him the basket _,_ but the bastard just smirks in response, foot going back to creeping up his leg as Johnny turns to chat with Jaehyun about a book he read recently. 

Johnny presses down, turning back to watch Mark’s face as he digs his foot into the flesh of Mark’s upper thigh, taking a long sip of his drink. 

And now Mark is silently begging, pleading Johnny with his eyes to just _stop_ before Mark gets hard at the fucking dinner table. 

But Johnny’s foot keeps going; creeping further up, and up, and up, until his foot presses directly on top of Mark’s dick… on top of Mark’s _semi-hard_ dick. 

Mark’s knee knocks hard into the bottom of the table, a curse falling from his lips as his cheeks flush an even deeper red and he pushes his chair back slightly, Johnny's foot falling to the floor. His eyes glue to his plate as he feels everyone’s gaze land on him, nobody speaking a word as they stare at him with matching looks of concern and weighted silence.

“Sorry,” Mark mutters, shoveling a bite of food into his mouth, “thought um, thought a uh, bug was on my leg. A bug, yes.” 

Donghyuck shoots him a look that screams ‘please shut the fuck up,’ and Mark ducks his head, ears on fire.

He glares at Johnny the rest of dinner.

✶

They're doing dishes when Donghyuck finally says something, the apartment now empty but filled with uncharacteristically awkward silence between the two of them.

“Mark,” Donghyuck starts, sighing as he dries the plate that Mark hands him. “Care to tell me what the fuck happened at dinner?”

Mark freezes, hand stilling on the plate he’s washing. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hyuck. Uh, everyone loved the pasta,” Mark says slowly, looking anywhere but at Donghyuck’s face. He really does not want to have this conversation right how, the imprint of Johnny's foot still ghosting his thigh. He feels his cheeks start to burn.

“Oh, you don’t know _what I’m talking about,_ ” Donghyuck says, brows raised in amusement. He sounds exasperated and if they were talking about literally anything else, Mark would laugh. But if Donghyuck finds out _why_ Mark was being weird, he's going to have to drown himself in the kitchen sink, so he plays dumb.

“Not a clue,” Mark mutters, pumping more soap onto the sponge as his cheeks burn.

“Just one dinner, Mark,” Donghyuck says with a huff of laughter, “I asked you to be normal for _one_ dinner.”

“I was normal,” Mark whines. It wasn’t his fault Johnny wouldn’t stop messing with him. 

“You were being _such_ a weirdo,” Donghyuck says, splashing the water from the sink onto Mark’s face. 

“I was _not,”_ Mark insists, dodging the water with a laugh. 

_“‘A bug was on my leg,’”_ Donghyuck mocks, imitating Mark’s voice before rolling his eyes, “God you are so fucking weird I cannot believe you're my best friend."

Mark laughs, bumping Donghyuck's hip with his own. "Shut up. You love me, asshole."

“Yeah, yeah," Donghyuck smiles, putting the plate down on the stack. "You're a freak, Lee,” Donghyuck calls, turning and leaving Mark laughing in the kitchen.

✶

Mark pulls out his phone once he's finally settled into bed for the night, flicking off the lights and pulling up his messages with Johnny, already grinning as he skims over their last few texts, eyes lingering on Johnny begging him to come over to his apartment a few nights ago.

Johnny really didn’t have to beg — Mark was already planning on coming over after dinner anyway — but it was nice to know he was wanted, nonetheless.

He worries his lip between his teeth as he types, heart pounding in his chest when he hits send. Mark wonders if it's he's conditioned his brain into associating texting Johnny with sex and _that's_ why his heart is beating like crazy, or if he's actually just losing his mind a little bit.

Probably a little bit of both, Mark thinks, when he sees the little typing bubble pop up and his breath hitches. 

**Me:**

do you have a death wish Suh?

bc i'm literally going to kill you.

also find somewhere else to get your dick wet 

that was humiliating and i hate you

**Johnny Suh:**

You're cute, baby

You know that?

Mark feels his cheeks heat at Johnny’s words, the pet name mixed with praise causing his body to buzz. It’s like Johnny knows exactly what to say to make him feel insane, _and_ knows exactly what his words do to him. 

**Me:**

shut up asshole

hyuck lectured me ab being “a fucking weirdo” bc of u

😭😭

**Johnny Suh:**

Lmao i can picture that so clearly

He’s such a little shit i love him

Also I cant believe hyuck of all people is ur mysterious roommate

Like ??? Jae's hyuck? little man ??? how did I not know that wtf

WAIT …

**Me:**

wait, what?

??

**Johnny Suh:**

You’re telling me I let u shove me in a closet because you 

didn’t want HYUCK to know we were hooking up?

  
**Me:**

I mean YEA ???

hyuck walking in on us is like my worst nightmare

but we don’t have to worry about that anymore

I wasn’t kidding

I’m never letting u fuck me again

💔

also Yuta definitely thinks I’m insane so fuck you for that, too

 **Johnny Suh:  
**Okay first of all Yuta was drunk af

And even if he wasn’t he wouldn’t give a shit lol he’s even weirder than you are

Also Mark pls...

We all know that’s not true

You like my dick too much

**Me:**

nope. 

suddenly im abstinent 

idk what ur talking about

**Johnny Suh:**

So if I told you I had the apartment to myself tmr night…

**Me:**

DON’T EVEN

I’m still mad

you were being SO OBVIOUS

**Johnny Suh:**

Me?

You're the one who was blushing like a little virgin

I really get you that worked up with just my foot? 

Mark’s breath hitches, knowing that they are teetering away from him being mad at Johnny for embarrassing him at dinner and into dangerous territory. Mark chews nervously on his bottom lip, his thumbs hovering over the keyboard. 

**Me:**

I was blushing bc i was embarrassed

also shut up, you wish

**Johnny Suh:**

I think you’re forgetting I could feel how fucking hard you were, baby

Mark’s cheeks turn bright red. He _had_ forgotten. But before Mark can respond, Johnny’s typing again, those three dots causing Mark’s fingers to tremble in anticipation and his stomach to clench, burning white-hot with desire and shame. 

**Johnny Suh:**

Probably wanted me to bend you over the table right there, didn’t you?

Wanted me to fuck you nice and slow on the table, show everyone how good you are for me

Let them see how pretty you look riding my cock

Mark curses, his hand slipping into his sweatpants to palm at his cock as he imagines just that — Johnny laying him out on the dining room table for everyone to see as he plays with him, touching him, _fucking_ him. Mark swallows hard. 

**Me:**

fuck johnny…

**Johnny Suh:**

Are you touching yourself? 

Thinking about all the ways I’d fuck you?

I’d make you feel so good, Mark

I’d make you beg for it again

You were so pretty like that, begging for my cock

**Me:**

Johnny…god

fuck I’m so hard

not gonna last

**Johnny Suh:**

Yeah?

Tell me what you want

**Me:**

you….

want you so fucking bad it hurts

god want your cock so bad

want you to fuck my throat again

cum on my face

need you rn ,,, fuck

**Johnny Suh:**

Shit Mark

Fuck

You’re coming over tomorrow 

6 pm and don’t fucking be late this time

✶

“Oh my God. Just _say it.”_

Mark shakes his head, cheek brushing Johnny's skin where his arm is pillowed under Mark's head. He doesn't want to think about it anymore, much less _talk_ about it with Johnny. He hasn't stopped thinking about it since Johnny brought it up, and he doesn't know if he's going to stop thinking about it any time soon, either.

"Mark," Johnny laughs, fingers tracing shapes on Mark's skin absentmindedly. “Just tell me. I can tell there’s something on your mind.”

“I just can't believe Jaehyun's heard us fucking,” Mark says pitifully, staring at the empty wall to his left as he presses his cheek further into Johnny’s arm, hiding the blush rising on his cheeks. "Why the fuck would you tell me that? I can never look at him again. He's at my apartment like all the time, dude."

Johnny laughs, his arms coming up to drag Mark’s body closer so he’s laying more on Johnny’s chest, his lips leaving a kiss on the side of Mark’s head. 

"It's not even that big of a deal," Johnny tries, "you've probably heard him and Hyuck fucking a million times before."

"That's not even the point," Mark groans, fully blushing now, "Jaehyun knows what I sound like when I'm getting railed, and he said I was fucking _loud._ "

"Well he didn't exactly say--"

"Shut up. I'm literally _quoting you,_ asshole. You said, and I quote, 'It's funnier now that I know that you and Jae know each other because he came home last time u were over and asked me who the screamer was.' Verbatim, Johnny."

"Maybe I just remembered wrong," Johnny suggests, still grinning.

"The screamer _,_ Johnny. The _screamer."_

Mark tucks his head into Johnny's neck and groans. This is the worst day of his life. Actually, make that the worst two days of his life. He still hasn't forgiven Johnny for the shit he pulled at the dinner table either.

“Baby,” Johnny laughs, grinning into Mark’s hair. “It doesn't matter, promise.” 

“Shut up,” Mark whines, “It’s fucking humiliating.”

“It’s really not your fault,” Johnny starts, amusement creeping into his voice. "I mean, who could blame you for screaming when you're getting fucked by literally the sexiest man alive?"

"I'm glad you think it's funny, asshole," Mark groans, punching Johnny's shoulder with his free hand. "If Hyuck ever finds out about this, I'm literally never hearing the end of it."

"Markie," Johnny says a moment later, amusement laced in his tone.

"What _now?"_

"What if I said I could distract you?" Johnny asks, lips pulling into his signature crooked grin when Mark pulls his head back to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

"What? You're gonna fuck the embarrassment out of me?" Mark deadpans, pushing up onto his elbows to glare at Johnny. His throat feels like someone ran sandpaper over it and his muscles are already sore, his body aching from how hard Johnny had fucked him. Not that he hadn’t expected that, from how desperate they had both been the night before. 

Johnny laughs. "Well I was going to say we could watch a movie, but if you want me to fuck you again that bad, I'm sure that can be arranged, my little screamer."

"I fucking hate you." Mark laughs, cheeks burning.

Johnny grins up at him, reaching up and brushing the hair off of Mark's forehead, voice softening. "So is that a no to movie night?"

"No," Mark sighs, leaning into Johnny's hand as a small grin pulls at his lips, "But I'm choosing the movie and I don't wanna hear anything about it."

Johnny smiles, the sight of it making Mark's heart throb in his chest. 

"Deal," Johnny whispers, pressing a kiss on the corner of Mark’s lip. “As long as it’s not another Ryan Gosling one. I’m starting to think you like him more than me.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Mark laughs, leaning over the bed to reach for the laptop. Please. As if he could like anyone more than Johnny. 

✶

_“Fuck,”_ Mark mutters under his breath, hand flying under the bed to search for his underwear, heart beating erratically in his chest. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He had spent the night. 

Mark picks up his jeans next, tugging them on and ignoring the ringing in his ears as he scrambles desperately around Johnny’s room, collecting his clothes and putting them on haphazardly. He’s wearing his shirt backwards _and_ inside out, but he can’t stop to think about that because he’s already thinking about all the other reasons he’s an idiot. 

He spent the fucking night. 

He had fallen asleep on Johnny’s chest while watching fucking _Saving Private Ryan_ and woke up still tucked underneath his arms, and it was soft and domestic as fuck and not at all friends with benefit behavior at all, and yet … Mark can’t say he hated it.

_God_ , it was too early for this kind of existential crisis. 

And then it gets worse. 

“Mark, I’m like, way too hungover for this right now.”

Mark freezes with his hand halfway to his other shoe, his head snapping over to the bed. Johnny has one eye cracked open, perched up on his elbows as he watches Mark hop around on one foot as he tries desperately to slide his shoes on. 

“Sorry, I — Fuck, ’m leaving. I’m sorry,” Mark says, wincing at how pathetic he sounds. “I didn’t mean to — I mean, I just. Well, I didn’t... And then I woke up and I was _here_ and—” 

“Mark.”

Mark ignores him, instead running around Johnny’s room looking for his phone and his keys. He knows they’re in here somewhere. Mark checks both bedside tables, rummaging through the things on Johnny’s desk, looking for the blue of his phone case. 

_Seriously, where the fuck is his phone?_

_“Mark,”_ Johnny repeats, voice more insistent. 

Mark whips his head around to see Johnny rubbing a hand over his eyes, now fully sitting up in bed. 

“Shit, sorry. Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Mark starts, dropping his voice to a whisper when he realizes Johnny probably just wants to go back to sleep and Mark is being _so_ _fucking loud_. “Sorry. I’ll be gone before you know it. Seriously. I didn’t mean to, well, you know. Sorry. I’m leaving.”

“Are you done yet?” Johnny asks, pinning Mark with a look that says _please shut the fuck up_.

Mark pauses, heart threatening to beat out of his chest. Was this it? Was the best sex of his life really going to stop just because Mark fell asleep to a Tom Hanks movie? Mark thinks he’s going to throw up. 

“Oh my god, Mark, I can hear you overthinking from here,” Johnny groans, leaning forward to take the shoe out of Mark’s hand and throw it back on the floor, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back over to the bed. “It’s like five in the goddamn morning. Get back in bed.” 

“But—” Mark interjects, confused at why Johnny would want him to _stay._

“No buts,” Johnny yawns, kneeling so he can pull Mark’s shirt back over his head. Johnny throws that on the ground too before tugging his jeans back off too, pressing a soft kiss low on Mark’s stomach as he motions for him to step out of the pants. When Mark’s finally back down to just his boxers, Johnny tugs his wrist again, guiding Mark back down onto the bed. 

Mark goes pliant in his arms, letting Johnny pull him into the warmth of his chest. Johnny sighs when Mark’s arms wrap loosely around his waist. “There,” Johnny says, eyes slipping back shut as he tucks Mark into his body, face shoved in Mark’s neck. “Much better.”

“Thank you,” Mark whispers, shivering when the cold tip of Johnny’s nose drags against Mark’s neck. “For not kicking me out.” He wonders if Johnny can hear how fast his heart’s beating.

“You’re welcome,” Johnny yawns, arms pulling Mark closer, their heartbeats mingling where their chests are pressed together. “‘s not free though. You owe me an omlette and some really hot sex when we wake up.” 

Mark laughs, eyes slipping back shut as he murmurs his agreement, falling asleep to the steady sound of Johnny’s breathing. 

✶

Donghyuck’s been quiet all morning. 

_Scary_ quiet. 

The kind of quiet where Mark would be worried that Donghyuck and Jaehyun had broken up if he hadn’t actually seen them kiss each other goodbye when he came home this morning. 

Which can only mean… Donghyuck must be mad at _him._

Even scarier. 

“Um, Hyuck, do you mind if we, uh get this type this time?” Mark asks tentatively, holding up a box of cereal he saw in a commercial and hasn’t been able to stop thinking about since. I mean chocolate fudge? Inside cereal? Mark was sold. 

“Fine, Mark,” Donghyuck sighs, pushing the cart down the aisle without so much as glancing at Mark’s hands, “Get whatever.”

Okay, Donghyuck is definitely mad at him. 

“Uh, Duckie?” Mark calls, jogging to walk by Donghyuck’s side as they stroll through the aisle. 

“Hm?”

“Did I, um, do something to upset you?” Mark asks, shoving his hands in his pockets to distract from the way they’re trembling. He feels his stomach turn with nausea at the thought of having hurt Donghyuck.

He doesn’t respond.

“Hyuck,” Mark tries again, already running through all of the possibilities of what he could’ve done to make Donghyuck mad enough to give him the silent treatment. He doesn’t remember leaving a mess, or breaking something, or even playing his guitar too loud at night like he knows Donghyuck hates. “Whatever it is, I’m really, really, sorry. Can you just tell me what I did? I’ll fix it, I swear. I just don’t _understand_ what happe—”

“How long have you and Johnny been fucking, Mark?” Donghyuck snaps, voice so cold it’s almost recognizable. 

Mark stops dead in his tracks.

“What?” He asks, voice cracking on the word as his eyes go wide. 

“You heard me,” Donghyuck says, “How long have you and Johnny been fucking, dude?”

“Hyuck—”

_“_ No, seriously. _How long,_ Mark?”

“A few months,” Mark admits, looking away from the betrayal written in the lines of Donghyuck’s face. “Started like a week before midterms or something.”

“Midterms?” Donghyuck shrieks, voice dropping to a harsh whisper when he realizes they’re still in the middle of the grocery store, “You’ve been sleeping with my boyfriend’s best friend since _October_ and you didn’t fucking tell me?” 

Donghyuck starts walking again, pushing the cart away as a little humorless laugh leaves his lips, the bitter mutter of “fucking since midterms” under his breath as he shakes his head in disbelief. 

“Look. I _wanted_ to tell you, Hyuck, I did. But, it—it doesn’t—” Mark starts, jogging to catch up to him. 

“It doesn’t what, Mark? It doesn’t matter?” Donghyuck spits.

“It doesn’t,” Mark whines, exasperated. 

“It does fucking matter,” Donghyuck says, stopping to look at Mark, “I cannot fucking believe I had to hear about this from Jaehyun _._ I had to sit there like a goddamn idiot and listen to him go on and on about how—”

“Wait, how does Jaehyun know? Did Johnny _tell him_?” Mark interjects, hands clenching at his sides. Why would Johnny do that if they were trying to keep it on the dl? This, this _right here,_ is exactly why they weren’t telling their friends. 

“Of course you’d focus on that. That’s not important right now, Mark,” Donghyuck sighs, throwing a bag of pasta into the cart so hard Mark can hear some of the noodles crack. Mark flinches. “What matters is that _I_ didn’t know. Me. It matters that you’ve been lying about this, you’ve been _lying to me_ for months. It matters that my own best friend doesn’t fucking trust me.” 

“Duck,” Mark pleads, “you know that’s not true.” 

“Don’t ‘Duck’ me, Mark. I’m not fucking kidding. I’m seriously pissed off right now.”

“It really doesn’t mean anything,” Mark tries, tugging on Donghyuck’s sleeve, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just — I don’t know. I didn’t think you’d care, I guess. I mean I know Johnny’s really important to Jaehyun, but I promise I didn’t even know they were roommates when we first started hooking up. I honestly didn’t think you would care, but if it’s too weird for you I’ll stop. I’ll delete his number right now, just say the word. I’m sorry.” 

“Mark,” Donghyuck says softly, shoulders sagging as he visibly loses steam, “I don’t care about that. You can fuck whoever you like, you know I don’t care about that. Besides, Johnny’s great, I don’t blame you.”

“Then, what is it?” Mark asks, deflating. If Donghyuck wasn’t mad that Mark was hooking up with Johnny then he really doesn’t understand what’s going on here. 

“Do you like him?” Donghyuck asks suddenly. “Johnny. Do you like him?”

“I don’t—” 

“If you say “I don’t do relationships” right now I’m going to kill you. I know you don’t, Mark,” Donghyuck sighs, putting another box in the cart. “But can you really look me in the eyes right now and tell me you don’t have any feelings for Johnny? None? You’d be fine if he just stopped talking to you completely, would just move on like nothing happened?” Donghyuck asks. 

Mark’s silence is answer enough. 

“ _That’s_ why it matters to me, Mark. Johnny’s not just some guy you went home with from a party, anymore.” Donghyuck frowns at the box in his hands, his next words coming out a little quieter, like he wishes they weren’t true. “You’re in too deep, Markie.” 

✶

Mark’s heart hurts in his chest, a dull ache that spreads across his skin and settles in his fingers. 

He had thought that when Donghyuck had asked if he wanted to watch a new episode of New Girl, that it was him saying he’d gotten over it; him saying he understands why Mark didn’t tell him, that he forgives him. 

But now they’re sitting on the sofa watching in complete, horrible silence. Donghyuck’s thigh is touching Mark’s, but he’s never felt further away.

“Are you still mad?” Mark asks, eyes glued to the screen. 

His heart is trapped in his throat, an ache between his ribs that spreads so far he can feel his heart pounding in his fingertips. Donghyuck didn’t even laugh during the popcorn machine scene, and that’s his favorite. Mark bites his lips, waiting for Donghyuck’s response with sweaty palms. 

“I’m not mad,” Donghyuck says softly, resting his head on Mark’s shoulder. “Just worried,” he follows, voice quieter. 

“You don’t need to worry about me, Hyuck,” Mark says, deflating. Some of the anxiety pours out of his chest, replaced by something duller, the blunt tip of a blade pressing against his heart. It feels a lot like the ache he feels when he leaves Johnny’s. He ignores it. 

Mark leans into Donghyuck, resting his cheek on top of his head as Mark’s hand finds his between their bodies and squeezes tight. 

“I do, though, Markie. He’s gonna break your heart,” Donghyuck says, voice quiet. Mark goes to interject but Donghyuck cuts him off, continuing. “It’s just — someone we both love is gonna break your heart and I can’t stand that I just have to sit here and watch.”

“He’s not,” Mark insists, half trying to convince Donghyuck, half trying to convince himself. Sure, Johnny’s older and cooler and funny and nice and sexy as fuck, but it’s just a silly crush. _Just_ a crush. “I won’t let it get that far,” Mark promises. 

“Okay,” Donghyuck whispers, pulling Mark closer. 

They watch the rest of the episode in silence, neither of them quite believing Mark’s words. 

✶

Mark takes a deep breath, his fingers trembling over the blue arrow, the mere thought of sending the text causing his stomach to churn with anxiety. But it’s been eating him up now for hours, the same question running over and over and over again in his brain. 

Every time he goes to try and sleep, his eyes slip shut and the scene from earlier replays in his mind, Donghyuck’s words over and over and over. 

_“How long have you and Johnny been fucking, Mark”_

So he sends the text, setting his phone down next to him and letting his head fall back on his pillow, a weight lifted off of his shoulders as something heavier presses on his heart. 

**Me:**

You told Jaehyun about us?

**Author's Note:**

> end of chapter one :))) first, thank you to anyone who gets this far for reading this, ILY. second, i really hope you’re enjoying so far, because I have even MORE fun planned for the next chapter & a lot more in store for Johnny & Mark 😼
> 
> comments/kudos/engagement are super super appreciated and i would LOVE nothing more than to hear someone’s thoughts on the fic so far & where they think it’s headed/ what they've enjoyed/ what they're feeling 🥺🥺🥺
> 
> until next time, you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/theyongprint) or you can send me a [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/ncityinthehouse) 💗💗💗 see you soon with ch2 :)


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